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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605694">Morbidity &amp; Morality</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterlyWasted/pseuds/OtterlyWasted'>OtterlyWasted</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>&lt;3, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Forgiveness, Healing, I don't know, I hate thinking up tags, I just have vague plans, I'm Weird, I'm not even entirely sure where this story is going, I'm really quite bad at it, Just go with the flow my bros... and brobettes?, Redemption, Sarcasm, Snark, and tired, mysterious?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:15:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterlyWasted/pseuds/OtterlyWasted</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve years ago, Bella's world shattered when Edward left. In the end she had to pick up the pieces and make something from the fragments he left behind. Much to everyone's shock, she managed to go to college, and went on to become a doctor. Now in her final year of residency everything is about to change again. Is she strong enough to face what's coming, or will she be the one to walk away this time?</p><p>PLEASE KEEP IN MIND: I am not a doctor, nurse or have any sort of background in medicine at all. I have never lived in, let alone visited Seattle or Washington. I have like 20 tabs open in my browser that I am referencing as I am writing this story. If something seems wrong, stupid, or out of place in regards to these things... it probably is! You're welcome to leave a message about it and I can try to fix it, otherwise, go with the flow - it's fiction for a reason. &lt;3</p><p>*For those of you who read my ACOTAR FF - don't panic! I haven't given up on my Rhys POV, this idea just would not leave my brain and I decided to write it down.</p><p>*Disclaimer - I do not take credit for the any of the characters or the world created by Stephenie Meyer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. BEEP ... BEEP ... BEEP ...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>You know that feeling you get when you are hit full speed by a semi-truck?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yea.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Me neither.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But that is how it felt as I stared into his golden eyes.</em>
</p><p>* * * * *</p><p>BEEP</p><p>BEEP</p><p>BEEP</p><p>With a groan I rolled over and smacked my hand against the screen of my iPhone, managing to turn off the insistent alarm. A furtive glance towards the window in my bedroom told me nothing, I had bought dark blinds to block out any potential light, yet every time the alarm went off I still looked, foolishly. Rubbing blearily at my eyes, I rolled to the edge of my lonely bed and sat up, picking up my phone to see the time.</p><p>5:30. A.M.</p><p>Fuck. Me.</p><p>Despite having gotten off work at seven the night before, I had been up for hours studying. While I was in my final year of residency in the ER, I had been doing a lot of research into the different fellowships I might apply for, trying to decide if I wanted to further my education. Around one in the morning I had finally stumbled into bed and fallen quickly fallen asleep. Four hours of sleep did not a happy Bella make. Sighing, I sat my phone down and stretched my arms above my head, feeling my shoulders and back pop, then stood and ran a hand through my short hair.</p><p>Shaking my head, I walked over to my dresser and dug through the meager clothing options. I really needed to do laundry. I really needed to find time to do laundry. Maybe this weekend I could squeeze it in between shifts. Or bribe my room mate to do it. That seemed the most promising prospect.</p><p>Grabbing another pair of scrubs, I walked to the door of my bathroom and went inside, setting the scrubs on the counter and walking to my shower, turning it on then began stripping out of my clothes, dropping them onto the floor. Steam began to fill the room as I stepped under the pleasantly warm spray of water, and sighed softly. I loved my shower. I think I loved my shower more than anything else in my life.</p><p>Honestly, it’s what convinced me to move into this condo. Yea, I shopped for a home based on the quality of the shower. Sue me. After all the hours I worked a kick ass shower was more important than the layout of the house or color of the walls. Well, that and my bed, which I spent a small fortune on and had lovingly named Delilah. Yea. I named my bed. After a song.</p><p>
  <em>Hey there, Delilah</em>
  <br/>
  <em>What’s it like in New York city?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I’m a thousand miles away</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But, girl, tonight you look so pretty…</em>
</p><p>God. I needed to get out more.</p><p>Snorting, I shook my head again and began to scrub my body down and then washed my hair quickly. I would have preferred to stay under the water for an hour of two and let it work out the stress in my shoulders, but I didn’t have time. I was on shift again at 7:00, and I was never late, in fact I was often early to work in order to follow up on the occasional patient, complete dictations, or otherwise just be available. It was one of those qualities that endeared me to my superiors and made me hated by my peers. I had found that not much had changed since high school, I still didn’t fit in anywhere, and preferred to be on my own. It was just better this way.</p><p>With a regretful sigh I turned off my shower, squeezed the water from my hair then grabbed the towel from the rack and wrapped around myself before I stepped out of the shower. Grabbing another towel I began to rub it through my hair briskly, glad once again that I had cut it short - it made getting ready so much easier. I had left my hair long for years… but when I started my residency four years ago it was just too much effort. Now it was short, falling to just barely brush the top of my shoulders, still long enough to pull into a pony tail when I needed it out of my way, but easily styled into a professional tousle for work.</p><p>Tossing the towel in the hamper, I grabbed some mousse and scrunched it through my curls, then grabbed my blow dryer and quickly worked my hair over. Honestly, I would have just kept my hair in a pony tail every day if I could, I still wasn’t interested in make up or fashion, but I had learned something about professional appearance, and how looking well dressed and somewhat styled actually calmed my patients. If I looked put together they tended to trust my decisions. It didn’t really make sense to me, but I went with it. However I drew the line at make up. Unless I had a meeting, or a date, which the last date I went on had been, what? Four months ago? No. Seven. <em>Daniel</em>. Daniel the asshole. I sneered a little at the memory of the misogynistic bastard. What had I seen in him?</p><p>Sighing. I knew the answer to that, and I didn’t want to admit it to myself. But of all the things about me that had changed, there was one thing that remained absolutely the same. I could not lie to myself.</p><p>It had been his hair. Coppery red and brown, it reminded me of him. Yea. Smart. I went on three dates with an asshole because of his hair. I had set my bar really low. Or was it too high? Shaking my head, I sat that philosophical discussion to the side for another time - <em>or never more likely</em> - and finished getting ready for my day. Finally dressed and presentable, I grabbed my messenger bag and phone and exited my bedroom into the darkened living area of the condo. My roommate, Amelia, was likely still in bed asleep. I tried not to be too jealous about that.</p><p>I failed.</p><p>Foregoing breakfast, I grabbed my coat and keys and headed out of my condo after locking up. The sky was gray and overcast, the air crisp and cool, and I was glad for the gloves in my coat pocket as I slid them on. Spring was quickly arriving, but the retreating winter was still biting in the early morning and late evening, and despite my many years of living in Washington I was still not a fan of the cold. Renee was still baffled why I had chosen to stay up here in Washington with the cold and the rain, despite having tried tempting me down south on numerous occasions. I always used Charlie as my excuse - she had Phil, they were still very happily married - but Charlie had no one. Well. Sort of. He had Sue now. They had never married, but they had moved in together and were happy with their arrangement. They’re love for each other was quite apparent, and I couldn’t find it in me to be anything but happy for them. So my Charlie excuse was sorely lacking, but after a while Renee accepted my decision and backed off, though she insisted that I make a trip down to see her at least once a year.</p><p>
  <em>“To get some natural vitamin D at least!”</em>
</p><p>To appease her I went for one week every summer, and despite my discomfort with my mother’s flighty behavior, I didn’t much have the patience for it anymore, I did enjoy seeing her so happy. It eased something in my soul to know that she was happy and well cared for.</p><p>Five minutes later I arrived at my favorite coffee shop and got into line, and thanks to the relatively early hour the line moved quickly. Once at the counter I ordered my drink, a large vanilla cappuccino with skim milk and a double shot of espresso, and glancing at the baked goods, decided on a banana nut muffin. Paying for my goodies, I stepped over to the other side of the counter and pulled out my phone, quickly checking my e-mails while I waited for my drink. Most of my e-mails came from the hospital, notices and newsletters, a few interpersonal messages about a patient, though I didn’t get many of those since I worked in the ER. </p><p>Deciding to become a doctor was a bit of a surprise to everyone who knew me. I had always been good at science, and had mentioned going to college for biology, but taking it a step further to become a doctor? Yea, no one saw that coming. Not even me, until I sat staring at the University of Washington’s website and saw the page for the UW school for medicine. And then it just clicked.</p><p>The next eight years of school was grueling, I practically never slept, between taking a full load and working multiple jobs to cover what my scholarships didn’t, I was honestly surprised I didn’t collapse from the stress. My parents helped out where they could, though neither of them ever had much money, and when my beloved truck finally crapped out on me they scraped together enough money to buy me a used honda accord, with Jacob’s approval that was. He went with me to the used car lot and inspected every car before he settled on what I had lovingly come to call “Bluebell” on behalf of it being blue, and well, my name. Listen, I was tired in those days, it was the best I could come up with.</p><p>Bluebell had lasted me through the rest of college and into the first two years of my residency before it started giving me trouble and I finally decided I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with it. Rather than selling it back to a dealership for a couple hundred dollars I had driven it up to the La Push reservation and given it to Jacob to fix up or sell, or whatever. I think Quil was driving it around now. So now I walked most everywhere, which was basically to work and home, sometimes to the grocery store. On the rare occasion I went somewhere outside of my typical five block radius I would splurge on a cab.</p><p>And yea, Jacob was still in La Push, and we were still best friends. After <em>he</em> left, Jacob and I grew very close. In all honesty, he saved me. And I loved him, deeply. He wanted more with me, I knew he did… and I did try. For two years I tried to give him what he wanted, tried to be what he wanted me to be… but in the end we both knew it wouldn’t work. For a while after we broke up he wouldn’t talk to me. It nearly broke me, the weeks after our split had been some of the darkest since that day in the forest. I don’t think I stopped crying for days, even as I dragged myself to class and work. Then after three weeks he showed up at my dorm room with a box of donuts and a sad smile.</p><p>
  <em>“I got you donuts. Sorry I’m an asshole… also I ate one already.”</em>
</p><p>I had stood there and stared at him, and then laughed until I cried, and probably cried until I laughed. I’m pretty sure my room mate at the time thought I had lost it entirely. I might have. We made up, and spent the night watching stupid movies, trying to rebuild our friendship. It was never quite the same after that, there was still a deep sadness between us, as though we were two souls set on opposite shores, calling to each other, but never quite meeting.</p><p>After Jacob there had only been two other guys I went on dates with, the first was a classmate, Caleb. He was sweet, and smart, and a little shy. We started out as study partners, and after one late night session he asked me to grab a late dinner with him at a nearby diner. While we sat with our books, fries and cups of coffee, he quietly admitted to liking me. I was shocked and honestly blindsided, and the minute or two it took me to think of something to say made his face turn bright red with embarrassment.</p><p>
  <em>“N-nevermind, forget I said anything,” he stammered and looked down at his textbook.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Wait…” I finally said, “You… like me? Really?” My face flushed and I felt my body tense with shock.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>He glanced up at me briefly, his face still bright red, and nodded once.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Silence. I didn’t know what to say! I was so not good at these situations.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“I… your very sweet,” I began, and saw his shoulders slump. He thought I was turning him down! “C-caleb, I… I like you too,” I said in nearly a whisper. And I did. He was very sweet, and good looking, with dark green eyes behind dark framed glasses, and curly brown hair. Handsome, boyishly handsome.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>His eyes widened and a brilliant smile spread across his face.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Really?” He asked, hope burning in those green eyes.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I nodded, as he leaned forward.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Can… I take you out? On a date?”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I managed a grin and said, far more playfully than I ever usually was, as I gestured to our fries and drinks, “This doesn’t count?”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>He laughed and shook his head, “No, I can do better than this!”</em>
</p><p>And he did, actually it was some of the most fun I had while I was in college. We went out on a handful of dates, neither of us having much money, yet he managed to come up with fun, inexpensive things for us to do that we somehow crammed in between classes and work. My favorite memory with him was the guided ghost tour through some of the older districts in Seattle, during Halloween. I had developed a fondness for scary movies and ghost stories, and walking through those old homes, learning about the different sightings and legends, with his arm around my waist as though he was protecting me… even though I felt him shudder a time or two with fear. It still made me smile, the memory of that determined, stoic look in his eye, as though he refused to be afraid, to show his fear.</p><p>Ghosts didn’t scare me.</p><p>I had seen much worse.</p><p>Vampires and werewolves… ghosts wouldn’t have been a shock. I was actually looking forward to seeing one.</p><p>We never did.</p><p>Though when he took me back to my dorm room that night I asked him to stay, jokingly saying I might need him to keep me safe. He had grinned and nodded, and curled up with me in bed. We had kissed and made out… but we didn’t have sex. I wasn’t ready, and he didn’t push. He was a really good guy, and I was grateful to have had the time with him.</p><p>But then his mother had a heart attack, and she lived way out in Spokane, Washington and he had to take a deferment from school to return home to take care of her. We tried to do the long distance thing… but it just didn’t work for us. For me really. The separation reminded me too much of things I tried not to remember, so we broke up. He wasn’t happy about it, but he understood. It worked out for him in the end, while he was back home he reconnected with an old classmate and they ended up falling love and getting married; I actually went to their wedding a few years ago. They had a child on the way now. I was happy for them, Caleb deserved the best.</p><p>Then there was <em>Daniel</em>.</p><p>Fucking Daniel.</p><p>“Coffee for Bella!”</p><p>I glanced up from my phone, returning to the land of the living as it were and saw my coffee sitting on the counter. Putting my phone away I walked over to pick it up, then carried it to the coffee bar. Opening the lid I added a packet of sugar, stirred, then put the lid back on and made my way out the door while nibbling on my muffin. A glance at my watch showed it was 6:15, I would be about a half hour early for my shift.</p><p>I had my routine down to the minute, I was never late.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later I strolled through the ER doors as I finished my muffin, tossing the wrapper into the trash can and nodding at the older nurse at the reception desk.</p><p>“Good morning Janice,” I said with a brief smile. Janice was not my favorite nurse, a bit set in her ways and uncomfortable with change, but she was reliable in an emergency and kind to her patients.</p><p>“Good morning Doctor Swan,” she said with a smile and a wave as I used my badge to pass through the inner doors and down the hallway towards the staff room. Walking over to my locker I opened it and quickly stashed my coat and bag inside it, pulling out my stethoscope and lab coat, slipping them on and checking to make sure I had several pens in my pocket. Closing my locker I heard the door to the staff room open and glanced over my shoulder to see Johnathon enter, another resident who was on his third year.</p><p>John Williamson was the kind of guy easily forgettable in his appearance, average height, average build, sandy blond hair, brown eyes… nothing that really made him pop. Though his personality was warm and welcoming, there was something lacking in his approach to medicine. It had been late one night, the ER completely dead, not a single patient to speak of, and all of our other duties taken care of, that they had been sitting in this very staff room and he had admitted that he never had any interest in becoming a doctor. He wanted to be a musician, wanted to write and perform music on stage, in an orchestra or band, or solo, he didn’t care. That had been his dream, his whole passion.</p><p>That had not been the path his parents planned for him however. He had been given two choices, doctor or lawyer, and an ultimatum - do as they say or lose all contact with his family. Including his younger sister still living at home. He had complied, out of love for her, and here he was, all these years later, practicing medicine, doing his job well, but with no passion for the job. It nearly broke my heart to watch him some days, the sadness that always seemed to hang around his shoulders, even when he smiled.</p><p>I knew I looked like that some days too. More days than I cared to count.</p><p>“Hey Bella!” He said warmly as he made his way to the coffee machine, the dark circles evident under his eyes. I knew mine were relatively similar, though I tried not to look in mirrors all that often to confirm that.</p><p>“Hey John, long night?” I asked as I made my way towards the door, finishing my coffee and tossing it towards the trashcan. My hand-eye coordination still sucked, and it hit the lid of the can and bounced towards the floor.</p><p>John grimaced as I sighed and walked over to pick the cup up and walk it directly to the trash can.</p><p>“Yea, a fire and two shootings, plus several patients with the flu,” he said tiredly, pouring his coffee and drinking it black.</p><p>I tried not to shudder at the sight of that. I held off drinking coffee for as long as I could while in college, but finally submitted at the end of my second year - desperate for the caffeine to get through the long nights. I refused to drink it black though. No amount of caffeine addiction was worth black coffee.</p><p>Ugh.</p><p>“That sucks,” I said with a frown, and he nodded, refilling his cup and walking over to the table, sagging down into a chair. “Well I am going to go check the charts, when do you get off?”</p><p>“At seven, which means I probably shouldn’t be drinking this, I’ll never fall asleep when I get home, but I honestly don’t think I will make it the last thirty minutes of my shift without it,” he said with a vague grin.</p><p>I laughed and nodded, caffeine, like gravity, was a heartless bitch.</p><p>“Oh!” He suddenly said, looking up, “Did you hear about the new trauma surgeon they just hired?”</p><p>I stopped, my hand on the door and shook my head, “No, they finally replaced Doctor Michaelson then?”</p><p>John nodded, leaning back in his chair, “Yea I just heard about it yesterday. I guess he starts today? Not sure what shift, but I heard he is extremely experienced. I’m looking forward to working with him.”</p><p>Surgery was not really my cup of tea, it had taken me more time than I cared to admit to work through my aversion to blood, and the thought of doing surgery on someone… it didn’t sit well with me. When choosing what kind of doctor I wanted to be I had briefly considered psychology as I likely wouldn’t see a lot of blood there, but I eventually came to the decision that I was too fucked up to try and help other people. There were several other fields I considered, pediatrics included, but my cycle through the ER was were I found my passion. It was the adrenaline that pumped through me when the ER became crazy busy that drew me in. Reminding me of my days on motor bikes and cliff jumping… and with half the risk to my own life.</p><p>It meant that the voice I used to hear wasn’t there… but in a way, the adrenaline was the only way I truly felt alive anymore. Yea. It was a good thing I didn’t go into psychology. The doctors there would have labeled me certifiable in a hot damn minute.</p><p>I already knew I was crazy - I just didn’t want other people to know it as well.</p><p>Smiling at John I nodded, “Yea, I’m sure it will be good working with him. Take it easy in here if you want, I can cover the rest of your shift.”</p><p>“You sure?” He asked, relieved.</p><p>“Yea, I got you covered.”</p><p>“Thanks Bella, I owe you.”</p><p>Smiling at him, I pushed through the door and out into the hallway, walking towards the central desk. Derik and Amber were sitting there, both nurses, and were on the computers, typing away. Derik glanced up at me as I walked up and began to examine the charts available; he didn’t quite sneer at me, but only just. Derik and I did not get along. No, that was putting it too nicely. Derik was a certifiable jerk, and lazy to boot. If he could foist the job off on anyone, he would, and he often did on the new nurses and residents, while he slinked off to flirt with the nurses he deemed “hot”.</p><p>He tried that bullshit on me, and after the first four times of him leaving me to deal with jobs he could easily handle while I had other work I needed to get done, I called him out on his bullshit. A bit more publicly than perhaps I should. Not in front of patients mind you, but it was in the staff room in front of several nurses, more than one who had dealt with the same bullshit I had been dealing with from him.</p><p>They had cheered.</p><p>He had been pissed, and ever since then he treated me like crap. But he never tried to dump his work on me again. The same could not be said for others, but well, there was only so much I could do. I tried to warn the new nurses and residents about his behavior, but often times they were too nervous to speak up for themselves, and just took what he dished out, the asshole.</p><p>“Hello, Derik,” I said, with forced kindness, ignoring his glare while I tried to maintain a base level of professionalism. Then I looked at Amber however I grinned, “Hey Amber, how are you doing today?”</p><p>Amber was one of only two friends I had, and the other friend was my roommate. Ironically, I was better friends with Amber than I was with my roommate Amelia, but perhaps that was because I actually spent more time with Amber. Always at work… but hey, it was something.</p><p>“Good morning Doctor Swan!” Amber said with a wide, happy grin. Amber was pretty in a funky, happy, out going way. Her hair was brown but she always had it highlighted, sometimes in bright colors, and here lately she had chosen blue. The upper management hadn’t been thrilled about that, but there wasn’t any rule against it, and no complaints made, so they left it alone. She always had on bright make up, without going too extreme with it, and wore cheerful scrubs with characters on them - always making her a favorite among children. She was an energetic, extremely friendly person, and her bright personality seemed to smooth out my snarky, sarcastic approach to life. At first I could hardly tolerate her, but eventually she endeared herself to me, and now I truly considered her one of my closest confidants. “I’m doing great! Getting off soon, and then I’m going to lunch with my boyfriend.”</p><p>Amber had recently started dating a guy who was visiting from England on a business trip. They met by happen chance in a gaming store, both of them being nerds, and hit it off from there. She was thrilled by him, and her happiness seemed to almost radiate off her these days.</p><p>Derik scoffed and stood up, stomping away from both of us. Amber and I watched him, then looked back towards each other and started laughing. Amber had been one of the nurses Derik tried flirting with when he wasn’t doing his work, but unfortunately for him, Amber had seen how he treated her coworkers and wouldn’t give him the time of day, shutting him down rather solidly. At first his attitude towards her had been rather mild in comparison to how he treated me, but now that she and I were best buds his attitude had soured dramatically towards us both.</p><p>“He is such an asshole,” Amber said with another laugh, “I honestly wish he would just stop showing up for work one of these days. It’s not like he does much anyways.”</p><p>Chuckling, I turned towards the charts and started looking through them, identifying John’s and the new ones which hadn’t been assigned yet. “Let me tell you what Amber, the day that happens, I promise to go out to a club with you and get hammered.”</p><p>Glancing to my right I saw Amber’s eyes grow wide in shock and then her head tilt back as she let out a loud peal of laughter. I <em>never</em> went to clubs, I’d only been to a bar a handful of times, and I rarely ever drank. I had only been drunk twice, and it wasn’t an experience I was gunning for again any time soon. Typically if I felt like drinking I did it from the safety of my own house while wearing pajamas and catching up on my netflix shows. Which is to say it rarely ever happened, because I was always at work. Making my promise to go to a club was the equivalent to promising her a million dollars - likely to never happen, but the hope that it might was a heady thing.</p><p>“Oh my god!” She laughed again, standing up and walking over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist in a quick hug. “I am <em>so</em> keeping you to that promise Isabella, don’t you doubt it.” She grinned and let go, moving past me, “I have to go pick up some films, I’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>I nodded then called out to her, “Hey, let everyone know I’m handling the last of John’s shift… he’s dead on his feet.”</p><p>She gave me a thumb’s up in response then continued down the hall.</p><p>Fortunately the ER was mostly dead, the patients from the fire and gunshot wounds earlier had either been discharged, admitted for further treatment, or sent up to surgery. The flu cases, most of them, we’re given a prescription for an antiviral medication and sent home for bed rest. One flu patient, I checked the chart, a Mark Mattison, 76, had been kept to administer fluids as well as the medication, while they kept an eye on his heart. John had been debating on whether or not he should admit him to the hospital, based on his blood pressure and EKG readings. Reviewing his chart, and checking the EKG readings, I finally made my way to the room Mr. Mattison was resting in. Tapping lightly on the sliding glass door to announce my entrance I then stepped into the room. </p><p>Examining Mr. Mattison, it looked like he was asleep, but as I approached his bed he blinked his eyes blearily at me. Obviously elderly, with thinning white hair and wrinkles lining his face, yet his body looked strong, his arms and chest still somewhat muscular - as though he worked hard for a living, something manual instead of a desk job most likely.</p><p>I smiled at him warmly as I introduced myself, “Good morning Mr. Mattison, I’m Doctor Swan. How are you feeling right now?”</p><p>He coughed and stirred a bit more, blinking his eyes as though he was struggling to focus on me, which concerned me, but then he managed a small smile. “Like death warmed over Doc. Call me Mark.” His voice was deep and raspy, and it reminded me of Billy Black’s voice, sending a flash of sadness through me.</p><p>Four years ago Billy had developed a blood clot in his left leg that traveled to his lungs, and killed him nearly instantly. Or that is what we all hoped, that he didn’t suffer in his house alone for hours. Jacob had been on patrol, and no one had dropped by… it was Jacob who found him. It nearly killed him. It nearly killed all of us. Billy Black had been such a central figure in all of our lives, a pillar of strength and wisdom, and for him to just be gone… it shook us to the core. In my heart I was still mourning his loss, and I knew that Jacob always would be, would always blame himself for not being home, for not saving his dad. Even though I told him the statistics, explained there was nothing he could have done… the guilt remained.</p><p>It always did.</p><p>Pushing aside my sadness, I gave Mr. Mattison, Mark, a grin. “Of course, Mark. Well, after reviewing your chart, I have to agree with Doctor Williamson’s initial assessment. Your heart is concerning us, the EKG is registering an irregular heart beat, and that paired with the flu could mean further complications down the line. I would like to admit you to the hospital just to be safe.”</p><p>Mark frowned a little, coughed again, then sighed, “Might as well. If I try to leave, my granddaughter will just march me right back in here.” </p><p>I arched a brow and glanced to the chair in the corner I knew was empty. He saw my look and managed a laugh, “She went to get some coffee, she hardly ever sleeps; studying for school you know, and taking care of me.” He sighed a little, “I should be taking care of her, but somehow she always gets the upper hand. Willy little thing.”</p><p>“Gramps are you talking bad about me again?” A young, female voice said behind me. I turned and saw what I assumed was his granddaughter at the door, a grin on her face, but her dark blue eyes were tired and worried. She was dressed haphazardly in jeans and rumpled shirt, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, cup of coffee in one hand, bag slung over her shoulder, and a textbook in her other hand.</p><p>Ah yes. I remembered those days. Well. Mostly. Exhaustion has a way of tampering with your memories.</p><p>Mark grumbled under his breath fondly as she marched in the room, dumping her book and bag in the chair, then walked over to take one of his hands in hers, squeezing it. The love was blatantly apparent there, and it made my smile feel more genuine.</p><p>“Ms. Mattison is it?” I asked, tucking his chart beneath my arm. She nodded but wrinkled her nose, “Yes, but call me Liz. What’s going on, are you going to admit him?”</p><p>I nodded, “Yes, I was just explaining to Mark that I agree with Doctor Williamson. Your grandfather’s heart beat is irregular and his blood pressure is high. Paired with his age and the flu, we both feel it would be in his best interest to be admitted for observation for a few days.”</p><p>Concern flashed across her eyes, but then she squared her shoulders and smiled down at her grandfather, who still frowned slightly. “Well Gramps, looks like you get to flirt with the nurses for a few more days. Want me to pick you up some flowers to pass out?”</p><p>Mark barked out a laugh before coughing and shaking his head, even I couldn’t help grinning at the two of them.</p><p>“I’ll be sure to give the nurses a heads up that a lady charmer is on his way.” Liz winked at me and Mark snorted, shaking his head. Shaking both their hands I let them know I would get the admittance paperwork started and a nurse would be in shortly to help get him ready to be transferred upstairs.</p><p>Back at the circulation desk I added a few notes to his chart and signed it, then placed it in the outgoing pile, before sitting down at a computer and filed the paperwork for Mark to be admitted to the hospital. Once that was done I picked up the next available chart, reviewing it then made  my way to my next patient.</p><p>At seven the shift change happened, my shift officially starting, and Derik, Amber and Janice left, along with John who almost stumbled out of the ER with a grateful wave towards me, making his way to the Link. I was glad he wasn’t driving home, the man looked completely exhausted. Shaking my head I spent the next several hours working from patient to patient, working hand in hand with the nurses, conferring with the attending physicians, and losing myself in my work. Around 1:30 I took thirty minutes to walk across the street to a small deli, picking up a salad and a coke - yes I know the irony of the meal, I needed the caffeine, bite me. Sitting in the back corner of the deli I tucked into my meal while I people watched.</p><p>I’m not sure when I started doing this, probably some time back in college when I sat at the diner with my books. I never really fit in anywhere, and I started wondering about where the people around me fit in, wondering about how they found happiness in their lives. I began making up stories for them in my mind - it was the closest to reading books for pleasure that I had gotten in years. I had trashed all of my old books, the old stories I used to escape in, threw them away along with everything that had reminded me of <em>him</em>. The pain had just been to deep.</p><p>So now I people watched, and came up with stories for them in my mind. A snappily dressed business man who had three cats at home that he loved dearly and pampered incessantly, Fluffy, Princess, and McStuffins. The young couple who came in, laughing and holding each other, looking so deeply in love - but he dreamed of going into politics and she fantasized about hiking the wilds of Borneo - will their love last the distance? The older woman who talked with the owner of the deli with frank familiarity, in her basement she practiced death metal music.</p><p>That was the story that made me laugh this time, a grin spreading across my face. Yea. This was better than reading, better than being reminded of the things that hurt; this way my mind could still escape into fantasy, but it was always what I created. Still smiling, I finished my salad and my coke, then stood and threw away my trash before making my way back to the hospital and the remaining five hours of my shift.</p><p>At four a car accident came in and the attending called me to work with him on the priority patient, a teenage girl who had not been wearing a seatbelt and had been tossed from the car and actually run over by another car. We worked on her for nearly an hour but could not stabilize her despite our best efforts, at 5:27 my attending, Doctor Taylor, called her time of death. It was hard, every time it was hard, when a patient died. There was always this feeling, if I could have just worked harder, been faster or smarter, I could have saved them. It’s what drove me so hard, made me stay up studying for hours, taking extra classes, going to every additional lecture I could squeeze in, taking on as many hours at the hospital as they would let me. I wanted to be the best.</p><p>“You did good work, Swan.”</p><p>I looked up at Doctor Taylor, an older gentleman, a little rough around the edges, but kind enough. When I first started in the ER he was brusque with me, but I came to realize he was that way with all the new residents. So many of the residents who started in the ER rotated out, they couldn’t take the pressure or didn’t get the satisfaction they needed from treating one patient through from beginning to end. Why get attached to a new resident if they likely wont make it? But halfway through my second year of residency, Doctor Taylor softened up around me, took me on and showed me the real ropes. I appreciated his attention and guidance immensely, and now his praise, despite the fact that we weren’t able to save the patient, eased some of the pain for me.</p><p>Giving him a small smile, I nodded my thanks, then turned to help the nurses with the death kit. It wasn’t strictly necessary for me to help, but I always tried to. I may not be close friends with most of the nurses, but I relied on them greatly, and I found that being generous with my help in their multitude of responsibilities endeared them to me. It made a difference for me in the long run and was worth the extra effort.</p><p>“Doctor Swan?”</p><p>I looked up to see nurse Kevin, a young man with sleek black hair cut short above his ears, and dark brown eyes, looking at me with concern. “Yes? What’s wrong Kevin?” I had to scramble for a minute to remember his name, Kevin was a new transfer down from the children’s pediatric wing of the hospital and I hadn’t interacted with him much.</p><p>He lifted his hand, showing me a piece of paper. “You should see this.”</p><p>I slipped off my gloves, tossing them in the trash can, then followed him out into the hallway, taking the sheet of paper from him. It was a lab report, for the young girl in the room I just left. Evelyn Harper, 16… pregnant. I stopped dead, staring at the report and swallowed once. Looking at the levels of hormones she wasn’t that far along, six or seven weeks, but she had been so young to die, and now this.</p><p>“Well we’re very glad to have you join our staff, and I’m sure the residents are looking forward to picking your brain. Ah! In fact, here is one of our most promising senior residents. Doctor Swan, I’d like to introduce you to…” I looked up from the lab sheet when I heard my name and stared.</p><p>And everything faded away.</p><p>The walls, the ceiling, the floor… the paper in my hand, the air in my lungs. Gone. Gone. Gone.</p><p>Because all I saw, were golden eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. At the First Crack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who did the golden eyes belong to? Get ready to find out!</p><p>Fun times to be had by all. Or something. I never know what to write here, fml.</p><p>PLEASE KEEP IN MIND: I am not a doctor, nurse or have any sort of background in medicine at all. I have never lived in, let alone visited Seattle or Washington. I have like 20 tabs open in my browser that I am referencing as I am writing this story. If something seems wrong, stupid, or out of place in regards to these things... it probably is! You're welcome to leave a message about it and I can try to fix it, otherwise, go with the flow - it's fiction for a reason. &lt;3</p><p>*Disclaimer - I do not take credit for the any of the characters or the world created by Stephenie Meyer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>When Edward left it caused a crack to form inside of me, splitting me so deeply I forgot how to even be.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Isabella Swan was gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Edward had been my whole world. His love for me had defined my very reason for living.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was born to be his. I was born to love him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then he left. Then he did not love me anymore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I was nothing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Over time I managed to cover up that crack, I couldn’t fill it, nothing could ever fill that hole again, but I sealed it over with impenetrable ice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I used school and work and residency to give an excuse for my existence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s how I survived.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But the sight of those golden eyes</em>
  <em>… It’s as if I could hear the first fissure of ice pop.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it terrified me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shook me to my core.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And royally pissed me off.</em>
</p><p>* * * * *</p><p>Sweat trickled down my face, my muscles aching as I tensed and flexed my body, slamming my fist into the punching bag, once, twice, then shifted my feet and slammed my left fist into the bag in rhythmic staccato. Music blared in my ears, this was the only time when I listed to music, and I only listened to heavy metal, screaming vocals and screeching guitars - it was the only kind of music that didn’t hurt anything except my ears. I found it forced me to focus on my body, it usually made it difficult to exist inside my head and I used these sessions of beating up a punching bag as a way to detox from bad days.</p><p>Today was a very bad day.</p><p>And it was just my luck that neither the music nor the exercise could block out the traitorous thoughts in my brain. Over and over the scene played out, like a record stuck on repeat.</p><p>
  <em>“Doctor Swan?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I looked up to see nurse Kevin, a young man with sleek black hair cut short above his ears, and dark brown eyes, looking at me with concern. </em>
  <em>“Yes? What’s wrong Kevin?” I had to scramble for a minute to remember his name, Kevin was a new transfer down from the children’s pediatric wing of the hospital and I hadn’t interacted with him much.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He lifted his hand, showing me a piece of paper. </em>
  <em>“You should see this.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I slipped off my gloves, tossing them in the trash can, then followed him out into the hallway, taking the sheet of paper from him. It was a lab report, for the young girl in the room I just left. Evelyn Harper, 16</em>
  <em>… pregnant. I stopped dead, staring at the report and swallowed once. Looking at the levels of hormones she wasn’t that far along, six or seven weeks, but she had been so young to die, and now this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well we’re very glad to have you join our staff, and I’m sure the residents are looking forward to picking your brain. Ah! In fact, here is one of our most promising senior residents. Doctor Swan, I’d like to introduce you to…” I looked up from the lab sheet when I heard my name and stared.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Carlisle.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The minute, the very second that I saw him, I knew him, as though it had not been over a decade since I last saw him. Of course, nothing had changed with him, still pale white with golden eyes, fine blond hair and a kind face - he still looked angelic. And I think, perhaps, it was the first time I had ever seen him look shocked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Some abstract part of my mind wondered if he was shocked at seeing me, or shocked at seeing me in a hospital as anything other than a patient.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Doctor Swan?” I heard my name called and managed to look away from Carlisle’s face towards the person talking, Doctor Foley, one of the hospital administrators.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I managed something like a smile as I forced myself to adopt the calm, professional demeanor I used with my patients. </em>
  <em>“Yes, I’m sorry Doctor Foley. We just lost a patient and the blood test came back, I was distracted. You were saying?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Doctor Foley frowned with understanding, then gestured to Carlisle standing beside him. “I wanted to introduce you to our new trauma surgeon, Doctor Carlisle Masen. He is, of course, replacing Doctor Michaelson.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I shifted my attention back to Carlisle, feeling the first waves of shock fading away, being replaced by icy, frigid rage. Rage was good. I could use rage, if I could keep it tampered down.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Offering another tight smile, I raised my hand to shake his, another look of shock flashing in his eyes, but he raised his hand and shook mine politely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Swan,” Carlisle said softly, his voice still kind and edged with something… hope maybe?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I didn</em>
  <em>’t have time or room for his version of hope in my life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not anymore.</em>
</p><p><em>“Yes, I’m sure your experience will be greatly appreciated by many of the residents.” The, </em>but not me<em>, was silent yet implied, and he read easily between the lines, even flinching slightly.</em></p><p>
  <em>Good.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Now, I’m sorry but if you will excuse me I need to meet with the patients family.” I nodded at them both, then turned, and made my way towards the waiting room, trying to keep my rage from boiling up into an all out scream.</em>
</p><p>One two… one two… the punches kept falling as the scene in my mind fast forwarded to my second interaction with Carlisle, and soon my punches were hitting harder than before, the shock of them radiating up my arms into my shoulders as the rage burned inside of me.</p><p>
  <em>The interaction with Evelyn’s family was not pretty, the waves of shock and rage and sadness pairing with my own, and had I not had years of experience ignoring my own emotions, I likely would have collapsed beneath the onslaught of theirs. By the time I had managed to escape their grief and allow them to begin to make arrangements, my shift was basically over. If I had really believed in God I might have prayed to make it out of the hospital without running into anymore golden eyed vampires.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of course, I was not so lucky.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In fact, I have little doubt that he was waiting for an opportunity to talk to me alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I stood in the staff room, exchanging my lab coat for my jacket, stethoscope for my messenger bag, when I heard the door open. Call me paranoid, but it was the fact that I heard the door open that clued me in that it was him. Another human would have shoved the door open, this was opened smoothly, but the handle was jiggled in such a way as to announce his presence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The rage crackled in me, the hour and a half since I saw him last had not abated it in the slightest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The silence was the second clue. A human would have greeted me. It was obvious he was waiting for me to say something or look at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gritting my teeth, I shut my locker door with more force than was necessary, then turned to glare at him.</em>
</p><p><em>I had questions, fuck yea I had questions, I had twelve years of them - but I was not going to ask a single one. That would have given him, all of them, too much power over me. That I </em>needed<em> them for answers.</em></p><p>
  <em>I didn</em>
  <em>’t need them for shit anymore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So I just glared at him and waited. He wanted to talk to me in private? Fine. He could talk. Or he could get the fuck out of my way. I knew I couldn</em>
  <em>’t actually make him move, and I didn’t want to touch him again to try, so other than waiting, screaming was my only option. That just pissed me off more.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bel-” Carlisle began when he noticed I wasn’t going to say anything first, then hesitated at the flash of rage I had at him addressing me so personally. Studying me, he then said softly, “Doctor Swan, may we speak privately?”</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>No<em>.</em><em>” The word was cold and crystal clear, and it left no room for negotiation.</em></p><p>
  <em>Carlisle didn</em>
  <em>’t twitch in surprise, but there was sadness in his eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry…” He began, but I cut him off, taking a step towards him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I told you no! I don’t want any part of you, your family, or your apologies. I have worked too hard and for too long to get where I am in my life, and I won’t risk it on your guilt. You asked, I answered, now get out of my way.” I took another step towards him; I knew in no way was I threatening, a lamb facing a lion, but I wanted him to understand the full depth of my meaning - that I wanted to be left alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He didn</em>
  <em>’t say another word, simply turned, opened the door, and stepped back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without looking at him again I marched out of the room and out of the ER, and despite my exhaustion the only thing I wanted to be doing, besides screaming at the top of my lungs, was punching something.</em>
</p><p>“BELLA!” My name being screamed at me finally caught my attention, and letting my arms fall I turned to look at Tony, the night time gym manager. Tony was the quintessential beefed up gym bro, over six feet tall, with shoulders wider almost than my arms stretched out could reach, his muscles had muscles. He reminded me of Emmett. The thought made me flinch.</p><p>Tony arched a brow at me, crossing his arms over his chest and I realized that I couldn’t hear anything except for the screaming in my ears. Reaching up, I popped my ear buds out and wrapped the cord up as I leaned down, still breathing hard, and picked up my water bottle. Opening it I chugged down some water, then wiped my brow and finally said, “What do you want Tony?”</p><p>He snorted at me, “I want to know what’s pissed you off so much that you have been here for three hours wailing on that bag. I’ve seen you in foul moods before, but damn, you’re even scaring me a little.”</p><p>Now that I was out of my raging zone, though still pissed off, I finally noticed how tired and achy my body was, my neck and shoulders throbbing, my hands… damn, they were going to suck tomorrow. Already I could feel a migraine coming on.</p><p>Rage was easy to maintain when your body wasn’t screaming in agony.</p><p>Reaching down, I grabbed my towel and wiped my face with it, then took another drink of water.</p><p>“Lost a patient and was blindsided with a semi-truck’s worth of bad memories. Sorry to have spooked you.” I said with a smirk that I tried to make playful, and yet I knew failed to accomplish.</p><p>Tony wasn’t buying it… but he was a guy, a ‘man’s man’, emotions weren’t really his cup of tea. Or bottle of beer. Whatever. Nodding he dropped his arms but pointed to the locker room, “Hose off and go home Swan, you look beat.”</p><p>I shrugged and nodded, making my way to the woman’s locker room. Stripping off my sweat-sodden clothes, I tossed them into my locker to get later, grabbed a towel and my bottle of body wash, then walked to the showers. Standing under the beat of hot water, I rested on hand on the wall in front of me, leaning forward and staring down at the water as it swirled and rushed for the drawn, washing away my sweat and pain. Physical pain at least, though I knew that would return in short order, I had pushed myself tonight, probably too far. That was the thing about pain, it never really went away, no matter what you did. It could be masked for a while, buried beneath hard work and dedication, washed away with hot water, but eventually it would come back.</p><p>It always did.</p><p>Closing my eyes I let out a breath and stood up, picking up my body wash and began scrubbing my body down as I thought everything through one more time. The truth was, I wasn’t really angry at Carlisle, I just couldn’t be. The kind-hearted, gentle doctor  who had patched me up over and over, held a place in my head and heart that was beyond reproach. Every time I had tried to hate him, I just couldn’t - it was the look in his eyes that got me every damn time. I knew he genuinely cared about me, that he saw me as something more than just the human his “son” was toying with. I honestly did not believe he deserved my wrath, but… the flip side of this was, how do I separate him from the others? It would have been bad enough if just <em>he</em> had left, that would have crushed me all the same, left me barren and empty… but they had all left, without saying a word, abandoned me as though I meant nothing.</p><p>As though I was nothing.</p><p>Carlisle had left along with them, even though I didn’t believe there was a malicious bone in his body, he had done it all the same. So no, I did not hate Carlisle, but I did not believe I had it in me to forgive him. To forgive any of them. Any of them…</p><p>Cold shock flashed through me as it suddenly dawned on me that they were all very likely <em>here</em>. In Seattle.</p><p>“<em>Fuck!</em><em>”</em> I gasped out and reached blindly forward, pressing my hands on the shower wall to balance myself as a wave of dizziness washed through me.</p><p>Why the fuck hadn’t I thought of this before? So focused on seeing Carlisle that I hadn’t considered the bigger picture. They moved around together as a family, except for the occasional times that a pair would split of for a few years alone. They would likely be here, or a majority of them… would… <em>he </em>be here?</p><p>I banged my forehead lightly on the shower wall and groaned.</p><p><em>Get a fucking grip Swan! Who the fuck cares if he is here? He doesn</em><em>’t </em>want<em> you! He made that blatantly apparent, and you don</em><em>’t </em>want<em> him! Remember? You made yourself a gods damned promise to let go!</em></p><p>My mind flashed to a dark, wet forest, to rejection and betrayal and I slammed the memory closed with a growl, gritting my teeth. I <em>refused</em> to remember it, refused to dredge it back up.</p><p>Fine. They were likely back, and I would have to work with Carlisle. I only had a few months left in my residency, and I had intended on trying to stay at UW, but perhaps I should start reaching out for other opportunities. Maybe I should finally take my mom up on the idea of heading south, somewhere warm and sunny.</p><p>Shaking my head, I stood up straight and turned the water off, wrapping myself in a towel and walked back to my locker to get dressed. I towel dried my hair then stuffed my dirty clothes and towels into my gym bag before yanking on my jacket. Grabbing up both of my bags, I slammed my locker closed and made my way out of the locker room and towards the front of the gym, spotting Tony talking to a few guys by the weights. He glanced at me as I left, nodded once, then returned to his conversation, an effective dismissal if there ever was one.</p><p>It was late now, a little past ten in the evening, and the night air was frigid. Yanking my gloves on, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and hunched my shoulders, making my way down the sidewalk to my condo. I used to be frighted by walking anywhere late night, terrified of what went bump in the night, and oddly enough, vampires did not top the list of what frightened me. After leaving Forks to go to college I suddenly realized that I had some deep phobias in me that I hadn’t had to face when <em>he</em> was around, the most pressing of which was being out in a city, at night, in the dark.</p><p>My mind would always flash back to the memory of that night, of the men herding me down the dark streets to a dead end, of how they had surrounded me, laughing and jeering, of the one who tried to “sweet talk” me. I would feel my lungs tighten and my heart race as the memory would pound through me… and sure, <em>he</em> had come for me then, had saved me, but that was when he wanted me, when I mattered to him.</p><p>When I was worth something.</p><p>But that had all changed, and I was alone now, and walking the city streets at night had nearly crushed me in panic the first half-dozen times I had done it when I moved up here. Then one day I stumbled onto a demonstration at the university about self-defense, and it’s like it clicked in my head. Nobody was going to save me ever again, I was alone, and I had to save myself. Were self-defense classes going to save me from a hungry vampire? Of course not - but vampires were hardly the only monsters in this world. I signed up for classes that very day.</p><p>Self-defense classes eventually led to kick boxing, and that is where I first found my love for exercising. Oh, I was terrible at it in the beginning, the lessons were brutal and I was still such a clutz, but I stuck with it. I liked the way my body ached after hours of practice, of the knowledge that I hurt because I was learning to protect myself. That I wouldn’t <em>need</em> anyone to save me ever again.</p><p>Eventually kick boxing morphed into something more than just learning to protect myself and became a way for me to decompress - that’s how I also discovered it was the only time I could stand to listen to music. Every gym I went to blasted songs I didn’t want to hear, though I did learn that the older the gym was, the less likely they were to blast modern music that brought back too many memories - however at older gym’s I often had to put up with a lot of misogynistic bullshit from the older male regulars. I eventually came up with a solution to my dilemma, I went to a more up to date gym, but I listened to music to ignore the crap they blasted through their speakers - heavy metal crap that I didn’t really enjoy, but it drowned out everything else and let me focus on my body.</p><p>Now all these years later I could walk the city streets at night without freaking out, though I wont say I enjoyed it, if for no other reason than it was cold as shit at night. But I could do it, and I was proud of that… though I kept a can of mace in my bag, just to satisfy my father.</p><p>Turning a corner, I was about a block away from my condo now, when I came to a sudden stop and turned so my back was to the building behind me, giving me the ability to look up and down the street and across it. I’m not sure what made me stop, I didn’t remember hearing anything, and despite the street lights, I didn’t see anyone, but there was something… odd. A tingle, at the back of my neck, warning me that something was just not right.</p><p>My once previously exhausted body came alive with sensation, the weight of the bags across my body, the feeling of the cool night air brushing across my face and through my wet hair, the scent of the city, dirty with the scent of coffee woven through it to make it almost appealing.</p><p>My eyes scanned the street and the buildings, over and over, but there was just… nothing.</p><p>The feeling did not fade though, but common sense prevailed. If there was something out there, standing and waiting for it to grab me wasn’t going to accomplish anything, I might as well move forward. Besides, it was cold and my hair was wet. Fuck this nonsense.</p><p>Exhaling a small cloud of steam, I turned and continued moving down the street at a steady pace, keeping my ears tuned towards any unusual sounds. There were none, and a few minutes later I was standing at my front door, keys in hand, unlocking it and walking inside, safe and sound. The weird tingling at the back of my neck eased, but did not fade completely.</p><p>“Bella?” I heard my roommate shout from further in the condo.</p><p>“Yea, it’s me,” I called back as I dropped my bags to the floor and shrugged out of my coat, stuffing it in the hall closet. Picking up my bags again I headed deeper into the house, finding my roommate on the couch, her laptop on her lap and a mess of paperwork and color swatches spread around her.</p><p>Amelia looked up from her work and smiled slightly, she was not an overly demonstrative person and kept to herself, making her a great roommate for me. Especially since I was never around.</p><p>“Hey, you’re in late, thought you were off at seven?” She asked, then her gaze flickered to my gym bag and her eyes softened a little, she knew what the sight of that usually meant. “Rough day?”</p><p>I let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh and made my way past her towards my room, saying over my shoulder, “You have no idea.”</p><p>In my bedroom I changed into comfy clothes, a pair of yoga pants and over sized hoodie, with a thick pair of socks. I was exhausted, and desperately wanted to crawl into my bed and lose myself to sleep, but I was still unsettled from what I felt when I was outside. Instead I dumped my dirty gym clothes into my dirty clothes hamper, than picked it up and made my way down the hall to the small laundry room tucked on the side of the kitchen.</p><p>“Hey, I made chicken and rice for dinner tonight,” Amelia said as I passed by her again, “there are leftovers in the fridge.”</p><p>I gave her a grateful smile then went about dumping my laundry into the washer. Most of my clothes were scrubs and sweats, so I wasn’t concerned about sorting colors. At most I took a few of the scrubs that had stains and rubbed them down with stain remover before dumping them in with the rest. Once the washer was going I went to the fridge and tugged out the leftovers Amelia mentioned and dumped them in a bowl, stuffing it unceremoniously in the microwave. While it was heating up I made a small salad, cutting up some cucumber and carrots - grateful that Amelia had gone to the store this week.</p><p>Honestly, she did most of the domestic nonsense, which I was eternally grateful for, and it reflected in the rent. I paid two thirds of the rent, instead of us splitting it fifty-fifty, seeing as I made more, even just as a resident. I wasn’t entirely sure what Amelia did for a living, something about interior decorating, though I had no idea where she actually worked. She wasn’t one to talk much and I wasn’t one to ask, it worked for us.</p><p>The ding of the microwave distracted me from my thoughts and I pulled out my bowl of food, carrying it and my salad to the dining room table. The smell of the rice and chicken made my stomach snarl and I heard Amelia laugh softly from the couch.</p><p>“Did you eat at all today?”</p><p>I snorted, taking a bite and chewing before I nodded. “Yea, I managed lunch before everything went to hell.”</p><p>She didn’t respond for a few minutes and I kept eating, trying not to scarf it down too quickly.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?” I heard Amelia ask, and I glanced over at her. She wasn’t looking at me, but I could tell by the set of her shoulders that she wasn’t actually paying attention to her laptop, half turned as she was towards me. Honestly, she reminded me of Angela, she was kind and she never pried, though she was shyer and far more quiet than Angela ever was.</p><p>It had been years since the last time I talked to her. Our friendship didn’t break so much as… dissolve after <em>he</em> left, though we occasionally kept in contact through facebook. Until we didn’t, when I got so busy in medical school that I barely had time to stay in contact with Jake or my parents. Thinking back on it, I was actually a little sad to lose her friendship, but I knew that was just what happened with high school friends sometimes. I tried not to dwell on it.</p><p>Shrugging my shoulders I said, “Lost a patient, which always sucks. Then ran into someone from my past that I…” the words, ‘never wanted to see again’, froze on the tip of my tongue. Had I never wanted to see Carlisle again? Was that really what I thought? Furrowing my brows, I changed directions and said, more honestly, “Someone I never expected to see again.”</p><p>Amelia looked up at me as I was talking, studying me with her blue-gray eyes without judgment or assumptions, then asked me slowly. “Will you be seeing them again?”</p><p>I let out long sigh, looking back down at my food, and could feel my shoulders slump a little. “Unfortunately, yes.”</p><p>No longer hungry, but feeling very tired, I picked up my dishes and carried them into the kitchen. There was enough food left to make lunch with tomorrow, the salad included, so I scrapped the remnants into two different Tupperware dishes and stuffed them in the fridge. Rinsing the dishes off, I put them in the dishwasher, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and made my way towards my bedroom.</p><p>“I have another shift tomorrow, I’m heading to bed. Thank you for dinner and letting me talk,” I said, smiling a little at Amelia, who smiled back and nodded.</p><p>Once inside my bedroom I set my alarm for 5:45 then went and brushed my teeth. Climbing into bed, I thought about researching fellowship options some more, or reading another medical journal… but my mind was just too drained to focus. Switching off my light, I lay back in the dark and closed my eyes, and yet, I could not fall asleep.</p><p>I never expected to see any of them again, hell, I half expected that they had left the country. In fact I could easily imagine Alice and Rose wandering around Paris, shopping together. Could see Esme delighting in the ancient architecture, finding some dilapidated house and bringing it back to life. Carlisle would have enjoyed the libraries, and I could see him working in a hospital, or maybe he would be teaching? Emmett could find fun in whatever he was doing, though I wondered if there were still bears over in Europe. It was a little harder for me to imagine what Jasper would enjoy, having spent so little time with him before my disastrous birthday. I flinched at the memory of his face as he lunged towards me… of all the Cullens, he was the only one I felt any sort of guilt towards. One little paper cut and I forced a vampire who was trying so hard to be good to go on a blood rampage. My fault.</p><p>My guilt did not assuage my hatred towards them, but there had been a time when I desperately wanted to apologize to Jasper. Now days? Now I wasn’t sure what I wanted. To be left alone, maybe, to be allowed the chance to live out what was left of my life. It wasn’t much to aspire to, especially since I very much believed I would spend the rest of my life alone, but it was my life, the only one I would ever have. I was doing my best with it, trying not to waste the opportunity.</p><p>
  <em>I wonder if he would be proud</em>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>The thought came unbidden to my mind with a jolt, like ice water poured down my back, and I gasped out. The crack in my chest <em>ached</em> like it had back then, back when <em>he</em> left me, and a sob nearly tore from me. I swallowed it back with difficulty, and gripped my sheets tightly, angry again.</p><p>No.</p><p>
  <em>No!</em>
</p><p>Never again, I would not let him hurt me again! I would not let them back in my life, I would not hope to only have those hopes abandoned. I had learned my lesson well and good, and there was no going back. All I had was what was in front of me, one step in front of the other. Finish my residency, apply for a fellowship, settle down somewhere and live out my life. I would be satisfied with that.</p><p>The ache in my chest did not exactly ease, but I remembered how to breathe around it, and after several long minutes my hands relaxed, followed by the rest of my body.</p><p>I still could not sleep.</p><p>*****</p><p>The next day sucked ass. I ached from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, and the lack of sleep did not help in the slightest. I could barely lift my arms without them screaming in pain and my knuckles were bruised, despite the padding I had worn. The one good thing I had going for me was that Amelia switched my laundry, so at least I had clean scrubs for the day.</p><p>I was a total bitch at work however, and I knew it, though I managed to pull myself together for my patients. It was extremely rare for me to have a bad day at work, I wasn’t exactly jovial at work, but I did try to be pleasant, not just to my patients but to my co-workers as well. For me to show up this grumpy and generally pissed off was a shock to my co-workers, and rather than respond in kind they went out of their way to check on me.</p><p>That just pissed me off more, and for no damned good reason that I could rationalize. Which also pissed me off.</p><p>So I did my best to hide, in between taking care of my patients, just so no one would have to put up with my hellacious attitude.</p><p>Over half way through my shift this plan appeared to be working for me, the ER was running smoothly, I hadn’t screamed at anyone nor had I run into another Cullen, a fact I was heartily grateful about. The downside of this however, was that I was alone, and in my life it never rains except when it fucking pours.</p><p>“Bella,” a male voice purred at me. I felt my entire body stiffen, not with fear, but with frustrated rage - and this time it had nothing to do with a vampire.</p><p>Turning, I looked towards the man standing in the doorway. He was a little taller than me and thin without much muscle, though dressed in a suit that accentuated his body nicely. However it was always his copper hair that drew my attention first, it wasn’t exactly like… <em>his.</em> But it was similar, though his hair lay flat, combed and gelled into place, making him look like a used car salesman, the oily kind. However it was his eyes that sealed the deal, cold and brown, and they should have been the first thing to warn me away from him.</p><p><em>Fucking</em> <em>Daniel.</em></p><p>Exhaling slowly, trying to keep a reign on my temper that was already spiraling out of control, I said quietly, “What do you want Daniel?”</p><p>He smirked at me in a way that said, <em>I am superior to you, </em>and I knew very well that he believed that. Coming from the upper crust of society, his family was old money, and for as far back as anyone could find proof, every male heir went on to become a lawyer. Daniel was no different, being the golden child, he was groomed to be a lawyer. Too bad they couldn’t groom him to be a decent human being.</p><p>“I’ve missed you Bella,” he said coolly, taking a step into the room as though trying to herd me into a corner. I knew what it was like to be stalked, prey to a predator - and I knew that was how he saw himself.</p><p>I also knew I could flatten him any time I wanted to, and as such was entirely unafraid and unimpressed by him.</p><p>I stood my ground and snorted, “And I haven’t missed you in the slightest.”</p><p>His eyes flashed with anger and… delight? Something about that did honestly creep me out. He seemed pleased that I didn’t back down, that I talked back to him when I knew from past experiences he preferred his women submissive. Why would he seem to enjoy it now?</p><p>Something about this, about him and this situation, felt wrong. I still wasn’t afraid but… I was uncomfortable. I could feel my heart beginning to race, the adrenaline beginning to pump through me in response to the situation.</p><p>Daniel took another step towards me, a weird sort of grin on his face, “Hmm… now I don’t believe that Bella. We were good-”</p><p>Did I mention that when it rains it fucking pours? Yea. The universe doesn’t disappoint.</p><p>“Ah, Bella. There you are, good.” Carlisle cut off whatever bullshit Daniel was about to spew, standing in the doorway and looking in at us. “I was hoping to confer with you about one of your patients.” As he was talking I watched as Carlisle slid something slim and silver into his pocket and knew immediately it was his cell phone.</p><p>Alice.</p><p>Without being told I knew what had happened, Alice had seen my future and intervened.</p><p>And boy, did that piss me off. No, that did more than piss me off. I has fucking, fire-breathing-dragon livid. How. Dare. She! She didn’t intervene all those damn years ago, she didn’t intervene in the years between, but now, now when I could easily pummel the pathetic man in front of me, now she decides it’s a good time to intervene?</p><p>Gritting my teeth, I glared harshly at Carlisle as my hands clenched tightly into fists, making my bruises ache. Daniel, the slimy toad that he was, smoothed out his face as he glanced back towards Carlisle, then said to me, “I’ll catch up with you later, Bella.”</p><p>Yea, I wasn’t so pissed that I didn’t hear the implied threat there.</p><p>Fan-fucking-tastic.</p><p>Daniel nodded to Carlisle as he walked out of the room, Carlisle having stepped to the side to let him pass. Once he was out of earshot, I stalked towards Carlisle and nearly yelled at him, “I don’t need you or Alice interfering in my life!”</p><p>Carlisle looked at me calmly, though the sadness was still evident in his eyes. “Bella,” he said, ignoring the fact that I did not want him to use my nickname, “I apologize, however I wasn’t coming to this room to protect you.”</p><p>That stopped me dead for a minute as I stared at him.</p><p>“What?” I asked intelligently.</p><p>He glanced down at my hands, taking in the bruises on my pale skin, then said softly, “You weren’t the one who was hurt.”</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>For a brief second all of the anger in me drained out, and all that was left was shock… I was going to do something to Daniel? I mean, that’s what all those self defense classes were for… except it would have been my word against his, and with his background, money and familial resources, I could have been seriously screwed - and that’s if I only just hurt him and didn’t in fact kill him.</p><p>I knew I did not think nearly as fast as a vampire could, but I felt exceptionally slow as these thoughts worked their way through my mind. Swallowing, I looked back at Carlisle who was studying my face again, and said, quieter but with no less conviction, “You still don’t have any right to interfere in my life. You all lost that right when you left.”</p><p>He winced, then nodded and took a step back. “I will tell Alice your request, and we will do our best to not interfere.”</p><p>And with that, he turned and left.</p><p>All I could think was how I hadn’t thanked him, and I wasn’t sure if I should have or not.</p><p>My life was officially a disaster.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My husband is a saint. He has listened me for hours as I have been working out what direction I am going in this story (and no I still don't entirely know yet). I do, however, know that next chapter will be from Carlisle's point of view.</p><p>I hope you are all enjoying this so far, and that it makes sense. ^^;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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